


A Modern Miracle of Technology

by sasha_feather



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, JoyFest, M/M, POV Sam Wilson, PWP, Prosthesis, Rimming, WinterFalcon - Freeform, needs more metal arm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27091432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasha_feather/pseuds/sasha_feather
Summary: If you are looking for a story about Bucky and Sam having sex, that's what this is.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson
Comments: 12
Kudos: 102
Collections: JoyFest 2020





	A Modern Miracle of Technology

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deepsix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepsix/gifts).



> Thanks to beta readers ThingsWithWings and LongWhiteCoats. Any remaining errors are mine alone. 
> 
> Written for Joy Fest, celebrating characters of color.
> 
> I love Kudos and Comments!

Sam's minding his own business, sorting papers on the kitchen table, when he hears a crackling noise from the kitchen. Suddenly, Bucky comes running out and dives behind the sofa in a clear "take cover" move. The noise continues, so Sam runs towards the kitchen, only to see that the microwave is on fire. Again. God dammit.

He unplugs the machine, but smoke is still pouring out. There's a fire extinguisher under the sink, so he pulls the key and lets loose a spray, probably more than is necessary. He opens the door to the microwave and shoots some more inside. When the smoke clears, he can see a sad, scorched piece of aluminum foil and a melted plastic container of leftovers. 

"Dammit, Barnes, did you put metal in there again? Now we need to get a new microwave. And it smells like smoke in here!"

"Sorry I have MEMORY PROBLEMS," Bucky says, meanly, as he crawls out from behind the couch. 

Sam deflates, feeling the tension leave him as his body registers that the emergency is over.

"We'll hang up a sign," Sam says. "Right on the door of the microwave. That way you won't have to remember."

Bucky has that hang-dog look on his face, all big eyes and hunched shoulders. 

"It's all right, no one was hurt," Sam says. Bucky doesn't look convinced, though. 

Sam walks over to Bucky and gets up in his space. "You just gotta remember, Barnes, there are some places metal shouldn't go," he puts his hand around Bucky's metal wrist, "and some that it should." He lifts Bucky's hand up to his mouth, and sucks on the fingers. They're thick and slightly cool, the seams of the finger joints just barely perceptible. Sam looks right into Bucky's eyes and watches his face relax, watches Bucky's lips part in pleasure. "Here," Sam says, and then moves Bucky's hand to his chest. "And here." Bucky complies, rubbing Sam's chest through his t-shirt. 

"Where else," Bucky says, his voice low and breathy. 

"Here," says Sam, moving Bucky's hand to his hip. "And we can't forget…" Sam moves the metal hand around to his ass, placing it just so, pressing down so the palm cups inwards; Bucky's metal fingers curl into his ass crack.

Sam is thankful that they own a big comfortable sofa, because they don't make it to the bed. Bucky sits down and pulls Sam down into his lap, kissing him, squeezing his ass where Sam had directed. Sam peels his t-shirt off and Bucky's right there, licking at his nipples. Sam throws his head back and buries his hand in Bucky's hair, holding on, pulling a little. Bucky groans, deep and guttural. 

"All right, let me just," Sam says, standing up and undoing his jeans. He kicks the jeans and his underwear off and leaves them in a heap on the floor. Meanwhile Bucky's taken off his henley and his boots. He's just wearing sweatpants, so those come off in two seconds, and he doesn't have any underwear on.

"Boots but no underwear, huh," Sam comments. "You've got your priorities in order."

Bucky laughs, puts his hands on Sam's hips and pulls him closer. He kisses Sam's hipbones and his belly, trailing open-mouthed kisses along his cock. Sam is expecting a blow job, something that they do all the time and both love doing. But Bucky gets off the couch and kneels behind Sam, kissing his thighs and his ass. He's stroking his fingers along Sam's sensitive hip bones. Sam's knees feel wobbly, his belly full of heat and desire. He leans forward to steady himself, reaching out for the back of the couch.

"Yeah," Bucky says, "kneel on the sofa for me. Head that way," he indicates. Sam stretches out on the sofa on knees and elbows. Bucky kneels up behind him, and puts his face right down into Sam's ass. 

"Oh dear Jesus," Sam gasps, feeling Bucky's wet tongue slide across his hole. The sensation is overwhelming, like his brain has melted, like all the nerves in his body have simultaneously relaxed and lit up. Strange, loud groans fall out of his mouth, sounds that would be embarrassing if he could summon any sense of decorum at all. 

Bucky is sucking at the soft skin there, licking, darting his tongue in and out. His hands are around Sam's thighs, the thumbs stroking back and forth in soothing motions. He's making humming noises, and the vibration of it goes through his tongue and into Sam. Sam feels tears forming at the corners of his eyes; some tight knot in his chest, something he wasn't even aware of, lets loose. 

Bucky pauses for a second and says, "Metal belongs here, right?" There's a light touch that must be a metal finger against his asshole. Sam's hips twitch. This is not something they've done yet, but Sam has been thinking about it more and more, rolling it over in his mind. What the metal will feel like, unyielding, smooth, and strong, fucking into him relentlessly. There's no give to that metal, but he's seen the control Bucky has with them, he's felt that control on his skin, his lips, his balls. But not yet inside of his ass, and he wants it.

"Yes, yes, definitely, yes."

He feels a dab of what must be the lube--they keep a bottle handy in the drawer of the coffee table-- then a finger sliding in, so slowly, gently in and then out again, while Bucky continues to lick around it. An eternity of this, and then there's a second finger, fucking into him more firmly, curling down, lighting his body on fire. His orgasm is building, coiling up inside him, but he usually can't come just from being fucked. 

Bucky is just holding his fingers inside, curling and uncurling them, while he licks around Sam's rim. Sam feels pinned there, his whole consciousness focused on one small part of himself, and on those fingers, a modern fucking miracle of technology. The arm is a weapon, after all, but now it's the opposite of that, a source of pleasure, of love, as Bucky moves his fingers so carefully. 

Bucky increases the pace, shoving his fingers in and out, fast and slick. "You want a third?"

"Please," Sam croaks, and he hardly recognizes his own voice. He sounds desperate, and he is, oh, he is. 

Three fingers now, fucking him fast and hard, and he can hear Bucky's loud breathing, can hear him losing control too. Sam shoves back into Bucky's fingers. His toes are curling into the leather of the sofa. 

"I need," he starts, then loses the thought as Bucky's fingers hit his prostate.

"What do you need, sweetheart?" Bucky says. 

"Your other hand, on my cock," he manages. Bucky's hand is there in a moment, slick with lube, warm and sure, stroking him firmly. Sam feels full, expansive; he comes with a shout, spilling out onto the leather of the sofa. Bucky leaves his fingers in Sam, holding him through it, kissing his tailbone, letting him collapse gently down. 

He dozes off like that, almost immediately, and wakes up under a soft blanket. It doesn't feel like he's been asleep for long, probably just long enough for Bucky to wash up and get a drink of water. Anyways Bucky is sitting in the reading chair, still naked, but now with his boots on. His dick is hard, but he's apparently ignoring it and reading a goddamn book, a romance novel with a tattered cover. Well, Bucky is a strange person.

"You want me to take care of that?" Sam says. He gets up off the couch and kneels down in front of Bucky. He wraps his hand around Bucky's dick and smiles up at him.

"God I love that little gap between your teeth," Bucky says. "It makes me want to fuck your mouth."

"Sweet talker," Sam says. "Go for it."

Bucky doesn't, not at first; instead he holds himself still while Sam licks and sucks. Bucky strokes Sam's ears and neck. Sam sucks his dick for a while, getting lost in the sensation. Sometimes Bucky holds himself back too much; he has to be encouraged to take what he wants. Sam knows that Bucky is afraid of hurting him, of losing control; Bucky has said as much, though he's never hurt Sam during sex. Sam supposes, maybe Bucky doesn't think he deserves to take, to give in to his desire. 

Sam pulls off, takes a breath and looks at Bucky directly. "Do it, Barnes. Fuck my mouth. Come down my throat. I dare you."

Bucky sucks in his breath and clutches Sam by the shoulders. He really goes at it then, thrusting into Sam's mouth, panting and cursing. Sam loves making Bucky come undone like this. He hums around Bucky's dick and scratches lightly at Bucky's thighs, running his fingers through the hair. Sam concentrates on breathing steadily through his nose. He looks up at Bucky through his lashes, and sees that Bucky is looking back at him, his eyes soft. The intensity is almost too much, and Sam closes his own eyes. 

Bucky goes still and silent as he comes, and Sam holds him through it.

Bucky has to eat afterwards; he always has to eat, with his metabolism. He wanders out of the kitchen with two plates of cold leftovers, and they eat at the dining room table. Bucky will probably avoid spending much time in the kitchen, Sam thinks, until the offending microwave is replaced. Bucky doesn't like to see reminders of his mistakes. 

In bed, Bucky curls around Sam's back, his metal arm up around Sam's chest. Sam strokes the metal, kisses Bucky's fingers. He feels Bucky sigh and relax, and eventually they both fall asleep. 

The end.


End file.
